


The Childcatcher

by orphan_account



Series: Unfinished Ghosts [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: CSA, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short but Fucked Up, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There is a monster at Camp Campbell.Davey has met it.





	The Childcatcher

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't mean for this to be my first fanfic oops
> 
> Anyways this is loosely based on my own childhood trauma that I've been thinking about too much lately so unfortunately for David, I decided to make a vent with him

There is a monster at Camp Campbell.

It has foaming jaws with white saliva dribbling down kitchen knife teeth, vinegar hands and honey words, the drone of summer and the stench of curled milk; it has no face but it speaks softly, silver-tongued and malevolent. It makes pacts with the devil and gambles with God. It laughs and plays pretend like a child. It preys on children.

Very few know of its existence. Here, it lurks, beneath the gnarled roots of dead trees. Buried in the rotten soil. Decomposing. Slumbering. Watching. Waiting. 

Davey has met it. 

The sun is shining. The day lazy. Today it's just him and a camp counselor he can't remember the name of. He has dark curly hair and smells like cigarettes, but he always carries a game system beside his smoke packs. Davey likes him. He's cool - he curses when the adults aren't listening and lets Davey play video games and tells him funny jokes that the other counselors always scowl at and tell him not to say around the kids. He's cool, he's Davey's friend, and Davey trusts him like he's a family friend, or cousin, or uncle - he's almost as great as Mr. Campbell, he thinks.

And today, they're just playing video games. Today, the two of them are alone in the attic. Today, Davey beats a level all on his own. Today, the man whose name he can't remember dies. Today, so does Davey.

His death is ugly and private. 

He doesn't remember much, but somewhere between the DS screen and the bathroom sink he saw a monster. There are bits and pieces, stuck into his brain like jagged splinters too tender to yank out or jostle. Blue green red plaid boxers on oakwood floor boards. Coaxing, honey words, heart buzzing nervously in his little chest, fear dry in his throat and dread heavy in his belly. Paralyzed. On his hands and knees, shaking, trembling. Tears hot behind his eyes screwed shut tight. Spoiled milk. The smell of skunk. Musk. Something in his mouth that shouldn't be there no no no this was wrong but he didn't say no he didn't run away like he should. Was that a fist tangled in his hair or terror? Sound a dull static. A child. Baby hands sticky with sin.

He thinks he must have gone to the bathroom afterwards to wash his mouth out and cry. Or maybe he just hopes he did. Maybe it happened again. Maybe something else happened too. Maybe nothing happened. His brain is broken, memory unreliable, thoughts shoved into the muddy pit of a deep, dark lake in the back of his skull. 

One day they have wrestling camp and he sits on Davey and he screams _**“he's breaking me, he's breaking me!”**_ because the weight is too much and the adults thought he said “rape”. 

He never goes to jail and Davey never sees him again after that summer. 


End file.
